EDITOR'S CORNER: Normalizing Russia Using Soft Power

For centuries, Russia has promoted its culture and language as major global exports and symbols of national achievement. At the same time, other countries have often romanticized Russian history and culture, portraying them as exotic and intriguing themes that capture widespread attention. As a result, when people refer to anything “Slavic,” they frequently default to Russian associations. This can be in personality traits, films, cuisine, or aesthetics. Despite the fact that many countries share Slavic heritage, Russia has become the most prominent and recognizable representative of it.

Why does this matter? Because the way Russia and Russian culture are portrayed in music, film, and other forms of art carries implicit messages. Art and culture function as powerful tools of soft power, shaping perceptions and subtly influencing how people think and feel about a nation.

In this blog post, I will explore this dynamic and its broader implications, focusing primarily on its relevance to the war in Ukraine. It is important not to forget that Russia is responsible for the largest land war in Europe since the Second World War. What happens in Ukraine does not exist in isolation—it has profound and far-reaching consequences for Europe as a whole.

RUSSIA'S CENTURIES-LONG OPPRESSION OF UKRAINE

For much of its history, Ukraine’s culture was systematically suppressed under Russian imperial and later Soviet rule. The use of the Ukrainian language was restricted or outright banned in education, publishing, and public life, while Ukrainian writers, artists, and intellectuals were censored, imprisoned, or executed for expressing national identity. Policies of Russification promoted Russian language and culture as superior or “unifying,” framing Ukrainian culture as provincial or unnecessary. This repression was not only political but cultural, aimed at weakening Ukraine’s sense of self and historical continuity.

At the same time, elements of Ukrainian culture were often selectively appropriated and reframed as Russian. Folk music, embroidery, cuisine, and traditions originating in Ukraine were absorbed into a broader “Russian” or “Slavic” identity, erasing their true origins. When Ukrainian art was allowed to exist, it was frequently permitted only if it aligned with imperial or Soviet narratives, stripped of its national meaning, or presented as a regional variation of Russian culture rather than a distinct tradition.

Today, the contrast is stark. Ukraine’s renewed commitment to preserving and promoting its culture is a direct response to centuries of suppression. Art, music, literature, and language have become powerful forms of resistance and self-definition, asserting Ukraine’s independence not only politically, but culturally. This cultural identity has become a raison d’être and a powerful reason why Ukrainians continue to fight and endure the daily struggles of war.

THE IDEA OF RUSSKIY MIR

Understanding the history of oppression directed at Ukrainian culture and art is essential, not only for Ukraine itself but as part of a broader pattern experienced by many nations under Soviet rule. While some countries were allowed to retain their languages in name, they were often forced to learn Russian and use it in daily life, reinforcing cultural hierarchy and control. Many artists were compelled to identify as Russian in order to publish, perform, or simply exist within the system. The allowance or denial of a people’s culture, language, and way of life is never neutral. It is a matter of power, control, and the systematic removal of the fundamental right to self-identity.

This dynamic is closely tied to the concept of Russkiy Mir (“the Russian World”), a political and cultural ideology promoted by the Russian state that asserts the existence of a shared Russian civilization based on language, culture, Orthodox Christianity, and historical memory. Framed as a unifying and protective vision, it claims that Russia has both the right and responsibility to defend Russian speakers and “Russian culture” beyond its borders. 

In practice, Russkiy Mir has been used to justify cultural domination, political interference, and military aggression—particularly in Ukraine—by denying the sovereignty and distinct identities of neighboring nations. Rather than fostering genuine cultural unity, the ideology functions as a tool of imperial influence, deliberately blurring the line between cultural affinity and political control.

WHAT DOES THIS MATTER NOW?

This issue remains deeply relevant because even in 2026, Western cultural and political institutions continue to promote and glorify aspects of Russian culture without adequately addressing the harm caused by the regime. Hollywood films often feature Russian narratives stripped of political context, while artists with documented ties to the Kremlin receive opportunities in Western productions. Russian projects are nominated for major awards, sometimes overshadowing films that document or center the war in Ukraine. At the same time, movies and documentaries romanticize life in the Soviet Union while ignoring the repression, censorship, and suffering endured by those who lived under it.

A similar pattern can be seen in international sports and politics. Russian and Belarusian athletes are permitted to compete in major events such as the Winter Olympics, and numerous sports organizations are calling for bans to be lifted so these countries can return to “normal” participation. Governments, too, increasingly suggest that relations with the Russian regime should be “normalized.” Together, these cultural, athletic, and political gestures risk minimizing ongoing aggression and reinforcing narratives that separate Russian cultural presence from state responsibility. This is despite the fact that culture, visibility, and legitimacy are inseparable from power.

We cannot close our eyes to what is happening in Ukraine. Every day, Ukrainians are forced to endure freezing temperatures as Russia deliberately targets energy infrastructure, leaving civilians without heat or electricity. The suffering of the civilian population is immense and intentional. This strategy is designed to break morale and force capitulation through hardship. Over a million people died in this war, on both sides. Children have been stolen and forced to forget their Ukrainian identities and heritage. Prisoners of war have suffered war crime after war crime in this conflict at the hands of Russian soldiers. Women also suffered brutally under the conflict. 

These actions constitute war crimes, yet they are too often ignored or minimized because it is more convenient to focus on a sanitized, “glamorous” image of Russia rather than confront the reality of its violence.

MY OPINION

I understand that it is important to distinguish between the Russian population and the regime. At the same time, we must recognize how the regime manipulates the world through hybrid tactics and soft power, using culture, media, and moral narratives to shape perception while much of the West looks the other way. Russia’s attacks are not limited to Ukraine or other neighboring countries. They are an attack on Western culture and values more broadly.

While the West often portrays Russia in a favorable light, romanticizing the Soviet Union and softening the image of Russian life. The Kremlin frames us as decadent, fascist, and morally corrupt. Our freedoms, including freedom of speech, LGBTQ+ rights, and women’s rights, are cast by the regime not as universal principles but as weaknesses of Western society. Meanwhile, Russian culture is elevated selectively to serve political purposes, rather than celebrated as a true reflection of a diverse society.

There is nothing about the Russian regime that the West should glorify. That said, this does not mean we should vilify the Russian people as a whole. The Russian population and the Putin regime are distinct entities with different goals, and many Russians themselves suffer under the current government. At the same time, the population bears collective responsibility to challenge and change these injustices from within. Lasting change will not come from outside intervention. It must come from inside Russia, now, not at some indefinite point in the future.

CONCLUSION 

In examining the history of Russian oppression, the ideology of Russkiy Mir, and the ongoing manipulation of culture, it becomes clear that Russia’s influence extends far beyond its borders. From silencing Ukrainian identity to promoting a sanitized image of itself in the West, the regime uses art, media, and soft power to shape perception and assert control. While it is important to distinguish between the Russian people and the state, we must not ignore the suffering caused by the regime or the responsibility of its population to demand change. 

At the same time, the West must confront its own role in normalizing and glorifying Russian culture without acknowledging the violence and repression that underpin it. Understanding these dynamics is crucial. This is not only to support Ukraine in its struggle for survival and sovereignty, but also to recognize how culture, power, and identity are inseparable in the global fight for justice.